Most of my mornings are spent waking up later than I should, racing into the kids’ rooms saying, “You guys have to get up right now or we’re going to be late. We have to leave in half an hour.” This statement is followed by unintelligible words and moans. Repeat 3 times. I make coffee, throw together some breakfast (that’s on a good day), yell out reminders for PE clothes, violin, and library books.
I always start the car 10 minutes before we have to leave because I can’t stand getting into a cold car. It’s just one more thing to make me crabby. This gives me enough time to run inside, pour more coffee, bark out a few more reminders before we all climb in the van.
I shouldn’t really say all because the order is usually Josie, Coleman and me. Then I sit waiting. Then I get very impatient and let out my own unintelligible words and moans. Judah makes it out of the house which leaves just Charlie. This is the part where I annoy any neighbors who haven’t left for work yet or might be trying to get a little extra sleep, by honking my horn to remind Charlie of my irritation. Eventually he makes his way out, taking his sweet time, and we are off.
Notice I said ‘most of my mornings’, but not all. Yesterday was one
of those mornings where the stars were aligned just right or God just
decided I needed a little extra kindness. I woke up 5 minutes before my
alarm went off. Coleman was already awake and getting out all the
ingredients to make pancakes for everyone. The other three woke up the
first time I asked, instead of having to be yanked out of bed after the
fifth. Coleman served up pancakes for everyone. There were no fights
over syrup, resulting in spilled orange juice. Everyone made it to the
car sans horn honking.
It was just one of those
mornings where you wish there could be a hidden camera documenting the
perfection that you know will most likely last no more than 10-12
minutes. I felt good about it. I felt good about life in general. I was
happy. All was right with the world…until I spilled my piping hot
coffee all over my hand while getting into the car. Re-enter
unintelligible words and moans.
You win some, you lose some.
This is what I feel like on a beautiful morning when all is going right. Let’s say 5% of mornings (that’s optimistic) |
This is how I look the other 95% of mornings. |